


Every shade of Black and Gold

by anotherxlara



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: Carry On Hogwarts, Crossfic, F/M, Gen, Harry Potter Crossfic, Harry Potter Crossover - Freeform, M/M, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:26:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherxlara/pseuds/anotherxlara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not so easy, saving the world from the biggest threat since the Second Wizarding War while hiding your love for your arch enemy, the boy who is commonly called "the next Harry Potter" and who you're plotting for, with and against at the same time. </p><p>This book is mainly about Baz Grimm-Pitch, Simon Snow and the Insidious Humdrum, in a world built by the combined magical powers of JK Rowling and Rainbow Rowell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 31th of August, 2013

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first english fanfiction, so feel free to make me aware of any spelling or grammar mistakes. Kudos, comments and (constructive, positive or at least civil) criticism are always welcome!
> 
> All rights belong to JK Rowling and Rainbow Rowell.

31th of August, 2013

 

_The Hogwarts Express_

It was bad enough that when Baz opened the compartment door, hoping he would find some place to stay for the rest of the ride, preferably by himself, he stumbled upon his arch enemy and his little clique instead. Even worse, though, a very intense scent hit him completely unprepared and he almost inhaled it deeply before coming to his senses and pinching his nose, his face twisted in a most disgusted expression. "Merlin and Morgana, Snow", he coughed, rather shocked, "You smell."  
To Baz' defense, Snow didn't smell like people were supposed to. At all. It was his very own scent, Baz could tell, not a perfume or even soap, but neither was it sweat like after his quidditch practice or any lack of hygiene whatsoever. Snow just smelled like himself, more intently than ever, and Baz had never felt more vampirish in his entire life.  
"Stop breathing then", Snow suggested, not even bothering to look up from the card game he was playing with Agatha Wellbelove, his stupid little girlfriend. "And fuck off."  
"What exactly does he smell like?", Penelope Bunce inquired, her eyes gleaming with their usual nerdyness, which Baz found a bit unsettling given the creepy question.  
"What do you mean?", he asked sceptically, and then took a step back. "You know what, nevermind. Go take a shower, Snow. I should have figured muggles didn't have those in their orphanages."  
Snow looked up like he was about to curse him or something, and Baz sneered smugly, quickly closing the door, only to open it again just a tiny crack. "Wait, Snow - you haven't gone off again, have you?"  
Penny raised one eyebrow, looking at her friend.  
"No!", he exclaimed, defensively. "What makes you think so?"  
But Baz had already closed the door again and was now walking away, irritated and disturbed by the whole incident. The compartment had not only smelled like Snow, it had smelled like fire, too. Fire and Snow, the things that scared him most, if he was honest with himself, because they both had the capacity of burning him alive, one endangering his flammable body, the other one making him ache inside.

Penny had watched him leave, quite fascinated. Now she was looking at Simon, who smelled like her cat, candles and lemon to her. Very typically for him, he had fallen into the fountain of Amortentia in the Department of Mysteries when they had visited her mum at work, two days ago. The smell would wear off eventually, but it would take a while, and to be honest, she didn't mind at all. "Well, that was interesting.", she concluded, raising one eyebrow again. "Very interesting."

 

_Hogsmeade Station_

The trio leaving the train consisted of three people wearing different colours – Simon went first, of course, he always did, holding his red tie in the hand without any intention to put it on before a teacher noticed and made him wear it correctly. He wasn't a big fan of formal clothes, even if it was his uniform. It wasn't that he disliked it, either, he just didn't care and ended up neglecting it.  
Penelope followed him in blue, looking around with so much concentration that Simon thought she might be counting the first years or something. He didn't dare disturb her and reached for his girlfriends hand instead, leading her off the train (as if she needed his help) and she almost tripped (maybe she did, though). Someone behind the blonde Hufflepuff put a firm hand on her shoulder to steady her and Simon recognized the mocking tone saying “Careful, Wellbelove, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself before Snow had any opportunity to get you into trouble this year. It won't take long, I promise.”  
“Oh yeah?”, he answered, starting to feel the anger light up like fire inside of him. “Maybe I'll get you into trouble for a change, Baz, what do you think? Fancy being expelled in your sixth year?”  
Baz sneered, as if he knew a secret that Simon didn't, and went off in elegance and haughtiness, leaving him behind fuming as usual.  
“I swear I'll get him out of here”, Simon spat, “As soon as I can prove he's a vampire-”  
“I read that Harry Potters third defense professor was a werewolf, and had already been one when he was a student. Professor Dumbledore had a hard time hiding and defending him, but he did it nonetheless, thinking it was important that every witch and wizard had a right for education, no matter what their genetics, family situation or past had made them.”  
“You sound like a book when you talk like that.”, Agatha commented. “And why don't you try to just ignore him, Simon? Life would be much easier, you know.”  
“Are you kidding? How? When he creeps on from behind you-”  
“He was leaving the train, just like everyone else.”  
“Or insults my muggle orphanage-”  
“You do, too.”  
“Next he will come and steal my chocolate frogs-”  
“Now you're making things up, love.”  
“I do see it coming.”  
“I'm sure you do.”  
“Why are you defending him, anyway?”  
Agatha sighed, but didn't answer. He was in this mood again, the one Baz provoked everytime. It was no use arguing with him then, because all he was looking for was a fight. It was one of the things she didn't like about her boyriend: his incapability to calm down, especially after an interaction with Baz. It sucked, really.  
They didn't talk on their way to the carriages. Penelope made a few attempts to start a new conversation about something else, but nobody really answered and eventually, she just gave up.

 

_Hogwarts, The Great Hall_

 

Simon ate like a pig and Agatha judged him, Penelope could tell. From the way she tried not to frown, which made her face look funny, and how she looked away half of the time, especially when he was stuffing his mouth with more than two scones at once. It was kind of funny, the interaction going on between them even though they were all sitting on different tables across the great hall. Remembering her earlier observation, Penny turned around to look for a certain black-haired slytherin, but he wasn't there. She scolded herself for having expected something else; he never came to any meals. Agatha had said that she never saw him near the kitchen, either, and she'd probably have noticed him near to the Hufflepuff rooms at least once in the last five years if he was sneaking around the house elves to get his food. No, in fact, no one had ever seen him eating. That was the whole point of Simons theory of him being a vampire, besides the certainty that he was the most obvious villain you could imagine. The Insidious Humdrums appearance was nothing next to Baz', not that Penelope would admit so in public. It looked like the first year version of her best friend, though, so nobody could seriously expect her to be scared of its physique. What it did was much scarier.

Penny frowned. Why was she thinking of such unpleasant things on her first evening back at school, anyway? She should be happy, talk and have fun with her friends, enjoy the last day of her holidays. She could see that the tension between Agatha and Simon was obviously gone, he had moved to her table and his girlfriend was now sitting on his lap (Penny didn't know why the teachers allowed him moving around like this, but the Headmaster had always privileged Simon over pretty much everyone else and she'd gotten tired of being jealous or angry at some point in her second year). They were giggling, Penny saw Simon tickling Agatha for a moment and she seemed to be really enjoying herself for once, which was a rare sight at Hogwarts or anywhere far from her muggle friends. The boy sitting across from them was laughing along with them and currently growing his hair to black and yellow spikes, which made him look like a mixture of a hedgehog and the Hufflepuff badger. Penny was just wondering about the probability of her losing house points if she switched the table to sit with them, too, when someone tapped her on the shoulder from behind.  
“We need to talk.”, Baz said.  
“We do.”, Penny answered, thinking about the Amortentia and how it had smelled like Simon going off to him, which, with the fire affinity that lay in his family, either meant that he wanted to burn her best friend alive, that he enjoyed him going off a bit too much or... That he liked Simon, just like he liked fire. She was unable to tell which possibility scared her most.  
“What? Why?”, Baz frowned.  
“Why 'what'?”, she asked in return, irritating him even more.  
“Why do you want to talk, about what?” He was getting impatient and irritating her too, now.  
“It was you who wanted to talk!”  
“Yes but you cannot possibly know...”  
“You just told me, Baz!”  
It didn't even take a full conversation for him to be reminded of why he hated, hated, hated Snow and his little clique. Merlin, they were annoying.  
“You don't know what I'm talking about, Bunce. So why do you want to talk?”  
“Nevermind.”  
“Okay. Nevermind. Meet me at the top of the Astronomy tower, first chime after curfew.”  
She frowned, displeased about the time (she could lose house points if they were caught!), but he was already leaving and she didn't want to prolong the conversation more than necessary. If Simon saw them talking, he'd probably go off, thinking Baz was plotting against him again. So, as they had just agreed, nevermind. She'd find some clever solution, because she was the brainy one and she always did. Plus, she was pretty sure Baz wouldn't do anything to hurt her. They were both from Old Families and thus considered as allies by the rest of the wizarding world, it wouldn't do Baz any good to break the truce while the Mage was still their headmaster and their families wanted them to unite against him (theoretically) (she wasn't one to succumb to that sort of peer pressure, anyway) (not to mention that maybe the Mage was still a level too high for students her age to antagonize).

 

_Hogwarts, Astronomy Tower_

 

“You need to get Snow away from the Mage.”, Baz said without any sort of introduction, when she climbed the last step, totally out of breath. The chimes started exactly at that moment, raising her hope that she had misunderstood what he'd said.  
“Pardon?”  
“Snow. The Mage is totally growing him to be his string puppet.”  
“You're totally exaggerating.”  
“I'm not. Does Snow ever think about the Mages orders before following them?”  
“We prefer to call it advice.”  
“Right. He doesn't. He's totally a marionette in the Mages play.”  
“You totally don't get to talk about my best friend like that, Baz.”, Penny snapped. He arched an eyebrow. Penny needed exactly two breaths to be back to her composed self.  
“Alright. What do you suggest?”  
“Just talking to him-”  
“You're kidding, right?”  
“-probably won't work. He'll just go off, and worse, tell the Mage about it.”  
“Okay, Baz, now you're mistaking him for a baby.”  
“Am I, though? Or is he mistaking himself for one?”  
“Stop it, Baz. I thought we were being serious here.”  
“I'm always serious.”, he sneered. “So. We need to show him that the Mage isn't trustworthy.”  
“Really. Do we.”  
“Yes.”  
“How.”  
“Aren't you the brainy one?”  
“Aren't you the cunning one?”  
“Right. It should be easy if we work together, then.”  
Penelope sighed. “Well. Do we need to work a plan out tonight, or can it wait? I'd really like to be fully awake when the Term starts.”  
“Next week, then. Same place, same time.”  
He disappeared with a loud crack without waiting for her answer, leaving her to climb down the stairs by herself. Lost in her thoughts, she decided to stay on the tower, looking at the stars and starting to consider different strategies, ignoring her own resolution to get as much sleep as she could that night.


	2. 1st of September, 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first english fanfiction, so feel free to make me aware of any spelling or grammar mistakes. Kudos, comments and (constructive, positive or at least civil) criticism are helpful, encouraging and always welcome!
> 
> All rights belong to JK Rowling and Rainbow Rowell.

1st of September, 2013

 

_Hogwarts, Defense Classroom 3C_

“Mr Snow, Mr Grimm-Pitch, the deputy headmistress would like to talk to you both as soon as possible, immediatly after classes if you can.”, professor Greengrass, the head of his house, announced to them on their way out of the Defense class. Baz nodded and went on without even looking up, not bothering being polite because he knew she didn't care anyway.  
He, for his part, didn't care about the meeting with Professor McGonagall, and figured he could just as well get it over with right now, since everyone else, including Snow, would go to the great hall for lunch in five minutes. Greengrass hadn't said anything about going to see the deputy headmistress _together_.

 

_Hogwarts, Professor McGonagalls office_

 

“Come in.”, she answered immediately after his first knock. Apparently, he wasn't the only one here who missed lunch and didn't keep people waiting for long.  
“Professor Greengrass sent me here.”, Baz said straightforwardly when he entered, lazy voice, eyes dark and bored as usual. He deliberately didn't show any sign of curiosity or interest whatsoever, since he wasn't coming to see her to know something, but because she wanted to say something. There was a huge difference and he just made it easier for her to read it in his face.  
Meanwhile, she was finishing some paperwork and asking herself why he looked so disgusted. It certainly wasn't the pumpkin juice that the ministry owl had spilled on the floor an hour earlier, she was one hundred per cent sure that she'd cleaned it all up very well. Her cleaning spells were impeccable, without fail. All her spells were impeccable.

  
“Please sit down, Mr Grimm-Pitch.” She gestured towards an armchair in front of her and wrote down some last words on the parchment, signed it and made it fold itself by a little nudge of her wand.  
“So”, she said. “You must have been wondering why I called you here.”  
His expression remained blank. _No_ , he thought, _not if you're calling Snow, too_. Then it just meant he had done something stupid and Baz had something to do with it. He couldn't possibly be surprised by that sort of thing anymore.

  
Professor McGonagall leaned back in her chair, unimpressed by his lack of response. “Or not. Alright then, I'm going to get straight to the point of the whole business. Your fellow student, Adam Clifford, had been chosen to be the Slytherin prefect this year. Unfortunately, something happened to him, and he won't be able to go back to school until the end of october at the very least, probably longer. I'm afraid this makes it impossible for him to keep a position with so many resposibilities, and I wanted to ask you to take his place.”  
There was almost a full minute of silence in which dark eyes were scrutinising her desk, the air and finally met hers, still lacking any sort of expression.

  
“What does Snow have to do with this?”  
“Mr Snow? Why would he have anything to do with it?”, the deputy headmistress asked in return and almost sounded honest. He snorted.  
“I know he does. But what? For once, he really can't have caused the accident since he spent his summer in a muggle orphanage.”  
“Mr Grimm-Pitch, I forbid you to talk about Mr Snow in such a fashion! One point from Slytherin. Besides, you're wrong. He did not spend the whole summer there.”  
“What?” The word came out of Baz' mouth before he could stop himself. Cursing himself, he turned it into another question before she guessed which information had really called his shock.

“Professor, are you telling me he actually could have caused the accident?”  
“No, Mr Grimm-Pitch. I won't let you twist my words like that. Mr Snow didn't do anything-”  
“So why do you want to talk about this with him?”, Baz cut her off, deliberately forgetting everything about authorities, respect and Old Family manners. There was a time for impressing people with outstanding self-discipline, and another one where you could only get what you wanted through insisting (especially informations).

  
Professor McGonagall clearly had to think about it for a moment. She looked like she was weighing her options, or sorting which informations were unimportant enough to tell him, leaving aside the ones she had to keep. Her expression reminded Baz of Bunce right then, the deep concentration was very similar.  
Why did he know exactly what Bunce looked like when she was concentrating?

  
“Mr Clifford was not the only one involved in the accident-”  
“Oh no.”, Baz interrupted her again, louder this time. “You've got to be kidding.”  
“One point from Slytherin for cutting me off repeatedly. As I said-”  
“You can't make Snow a prefect.”  
She pinched her lips into a straight line.“I'm serious.”, he insisted. “That would endanger the whole house point system. Besides, you can expect Simon to handle responsibilities just as well as any absent student and they will have one thing in common: the incapability of acting on them. Really. Just don't.” 

“Grimm-Pitch, if this is some childish personal animosity between you both, I'd really have expected better than this from you.”

  
As if, he wanted to hiss at that. He hated this line. Teachers always thought it had some kind of special effect on him or something and... Well, it had. It sucked.  
He never really expected them to expect much from him on a personal level, and when he came to know that they (unexpectedly) did, it was usually in the same sentence that they told him he (also unexpectedly) did not meet their stupid expectations. He expected from himself to always meet peoples expectations, if not even exceed them, and got irritated by their disappointment.  
This was precisely what was going on inside his twisted brain when McGonagall glanced at his face to find, again, nothing at all.

  
“It's not.”, he ended up answering. “Honestly. Can you give me one good reason why him and not, say, Nate Wagner? He's reliable, smart, cooperative...” _Everything Snow is not_ , the words almost escaped his lips but he curled his lips up in a sneer instead. Surely the professor would know, and she'd also know he simply didn't want to lose any more house points by saying it. Besides, at least he'd made his point, and everybody in this stupid school whose brain was functioning alright had to admit that he was right. Snow wasn't fit for the job, period.

  
“I've tried to suggest someone else before. I had won the argument, Mr Grimm-Pitch, it just so happened that this very boy had an accident two days before the term started. The headmaster would like to try his chance choosing the prefect now.”, professor McGonagall explained, sidestepping his primary question. Funnily enough, it was exactly what he had wanted to hear. _Finally_ , he thought, _the actual truth._  
“So, you're giving up, joining the Mages string puppets again, pleading no opinion of your own regarding the matter because he's got stronger magic than you. Excuse me, I should have guessed right away. I'd just _really have expected better than this from you_ , you know?”

 

_Hogwarts, Hallways_

 

He went away with a new entry in his top ten First Day House Point Disasters, a score of minus twenty two points. Oh well. What preoccupied him more, though, was that the deputy headmistress, along with everyone else who hadn't grown up in an Old Family, was so oblivious to what the Mage was doing right in front of her.  
Merlin and Morgana, he seemed to have done something to a teenage boy because he wanted Snow to be prefect!

Why did McGonagall – McGonagall! - choose to play along with it? Was it because he was the Mage, the new greatest wizard of the century? (Oh, wait, Baz almost forgot, please insert some blah blah blah titles titles titles there.) Seriously though, he _did_ expect better from her. She was always so strict and stuck to her principles, pretty powerful too as she'd survived both wizarding wars and everything.

  
The Mage, on his side, had just popped up into the wizarding world right then, when the whole real action was gone. He wanted to profit from the fact that the Old Families were having trouble with the new government lead by Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was determined to end each and every corruption that had been going on for the last decades. Or centuries, for that matter. As the Malfoys, Blacks, Lestranges and basically every powerful name was dragged in the mud by their crimes, the Mage had achieved to get to the top positions of the Ministry of Magic in no time.

Now all the people who would be able and willing to stop him were either sitting in Azkaban or had completely disappeared from the face of the world since Voldemorts death.  
Only those who could prove that they'd been obeying Voldemort under an imperius, who had friends in the more popular wizarding families (it was the Potters and the Weasleys now, so no comment on that), who'd defected from the Death Eaters in time or who had cunningly managed to stay out of the plot had been safe from the purge going on in the wizarding power play.  
The Pitches, obviously, were part of the latter category and mostly out of danger, as were the Bunces and some other families with less reputation. The Malfoys had gotten out of trouble by chance, they'd betrayed Voldemort in the very last minute, and out of egoism too. _It wasn't heroic at all_ , Baz always thought when it came to that part of the story. _Narcissa was simply scared._  
But since it had been crucial for Harry Potters survival, he had played all his influence to save them from Azkaban, testifying their oh so decisive last-minute help.

Baz had been told those stories his whole childhood, ever since his mother had died protecting him from vampires. The Dark Lords Creature Chaos had left them behind. (Yes, the Dark Lords Creature Chaos was actually a thing. You learned about it in Professor Binns classes now, provided you were listening.) Certain creatures had been promised magical power, money and wands, had allied with wizards and other creatures and were completely confused by the Dark Lords end. Their attacks were still a problem until today; you could go so far as to compare them to terrorism.

Natasha Grimm-Pitch had killed the whole vampire army that night, along with the only person who was willing to protect Baz from the "Boy-Who-Lived" stories - herself.

  
Maybe that was the reason why yawning, looking bored and rolling his eyes came to him so naturally today. He must have been exposed to the "Legend of Harry Potter" for too long. Even five year old Mordelia Grimm was swooning over a particularly popular Harry Potter novel series now, and nobody in his family seemed to care, they even read it to her when she had trouble sleeping.  
Aunt Fiona thought she was growing up more hipster this way.

The Mage had never been a part of Harry Potters heroic journey. The Old Families hated him even more than Dumbledore, since he hadn't done anything nearly as important to earn their respect. He could just do stronger magic than most wizards, as they observed on several occasions in the years to come. He was powerful, brave, kind of hyperactive, always proclaiming that the war wasn't over yet... And hadn't been of any help against Voldemort.  
Rumour had it he was the part of Albus Dumbledores soul that had annoyed the Afterlife, or whatever it was that controlled the Veil, annoyed it so much it had spit it out again.  
Baz actually considered that theory.

 

_Hogwarts, Arithmancy Classroom 7A_

 

Simon had been waiting here for a while now. Every other Arithmancy student had already exited the class half an hour ago and the last people in the room were Baz, Penny and Mr Weasley. Simon heard something about advanced number charts, probability and the reliability of new techniques when they hadn't been controlled by the Ministry of Magic yet. The discussion seemed to deal with some new development in the current scientific Arithmancy research.

Simon sighed heavily, leaning against the corridor wall and letting his back slide down against it, sitting down next to the entrance, his legs stretched out. The door was left ajar, so he could hear them talking. They all sounded ridiculous to him, ridiculous and too smart, dropping complicated words and strange expressions in their sentences that he'd never heard before (not that he knew of, anyway) (it was probably a good thing he'd dropped the subject after third year) (that one year had definitely been one year too much in his opinion).

  
All of a sudden, the door opened wider, slamming incredibly hard against his leg. “Watch out!”, Simon cried in pain and shock, pulling back his leg and holding it against himself as close as possible. He had no doubt who had just hurt him and a wave of hate came crushing over him even before he distantly heard Baz' lazy voice asking if he was alright. That asshole sounded amused, of course, because why the heck not! Why would one not energetically slam a door again someone else's leg, right? “Fuck, Baz. That was low.”, Simon groaned hoarsely. There were tears in his eyes, which was embarrassing, so he shut them and frowned, his whole body tense.  
Baz chuckled. No, really, he did.

  
“Why would you sit down behind a door, Snow? You are just plain stupid, you know that, right? Don't act like this was all my fault.”  
He didn't answer, he couldn't, because then Baz would be able to hear that he was crying, and he couldn't allow himself to cry in front of his arch enemy.  
“Snow”, Baz asked again, with maybe a hint of worry in his voice now. “Will you be alright until Bunce comes out or should I better hide you in a closet? I mean, she'll sectumsempra me if you're hurting like this.”  
“You don't joke about sectumsempra”, Simon breathed, his eyes still closed and frowning, but the tears were going back now. “And it wasn't Penny I was waiting for.”  
“What? Me?” Baz sounded sceptical at first, but half a second later, the most evil laugh escaped his lips and Snow actually opened his eyes again to kick Baz as hard as he could with the leg that hadn't been slammed by a heavy door. Baz simply made one step back, still laughing. “Were you actually hiding behind the door to hex me?”  
“No, you prick.”, Simon railed at him, slowly trying to stand up.

  
Meanwhile, Baz secretly wondered whether if he reached out a hand as an offer to help Snow get up, the Gryffindor would take it. Stupid question, though. Obviously not. He was more likely to get bitten or something. Also, Snow would be reminded that his skin was unnaturally cold. Not only would he find it embarrassing, but it would also get on the stupid evidence list to support the Baz-Is-A-Vampire theory. Snow had been collecting proof for that since fifth year, sneaking around, supposedly trying to catch him killing someone.  
To Simon, while these thoughts ran though his head, his expression was still mocking and self sufficient.

  
“So. Any reason why you were hiding back there? And why you don't want to hex me?”  
“Of course I want to hex you.”, Simon said, sounding almost normal again – that is, out of breath because he didn't like Baz, now, not because he was hurting. As far as Baz knew, he was always breathing funny. “But not right now. Actually, I was waiting for you.”  
“How civil.”, Baz said, looking disgusted, as if Simon had insulted him somehow. “Why would you do that?”  
“We had an appointment after classes, remember? Greengrass? McGonagall?” Baz could tell Snow was feeling all important and superior, thinking he'd forgotten about it and was supposed to be thankful. He smirked.

“When did you plan to go there?”, Snow asked.  
“I didn't plan it, to be honest. I just went.”  
“You - !”  
“Yes?”  
Simon was searching for words. He looked wild, his bronze curls falling into his face like that. Baz liked it. He wanted to run his hands through them, use it as an excuse to come near to his face, and Simon would still be breathing through his mouth, because for some reason he almost always did, and he'd be hot, literally hot, too, emanating heat like usual, but Baz would be able to feel that heat against his face real close for once, and then he'd breathe in the air that Snow was breathing out, and then they'd -

  
“What did she want?”, Snow asked, almost calmly. Internally fuming and trying to hide it, Baz assumed, sort of impressed. Well, he'd like to _only_ be impressed, but in fact, he was... annoyed. (By the interruption?) (Certainly not!) At least he couldn't pursue his crazy train of thoughts (that was a good thing, right?).

  
“I was appointed prefect.”  
“No way.”, Snow spat.  
“Yep.”  
“What the hell is going on inside her head? Is she crazy? Getting old? Did you confund her? Why would she do that?”, he complained.  
“Two points from Gryffindor for the Hogwarts authorities you insulted. One point from Gryffindor as a bonus answer to your question.”  
“You can't - ! You - ! What - ? But - … “  
Baz threw his head back in an evil laugh.  
“I believe I can, Snow. And you can go talk to her on your own now, if you still want to.”  
Snows face went from angry and incredulous to highly sceptical, his trained, suspicious brain automatically translated the last sentence into the intended subtext.

  
“If there's still a point to it, if  _she_ still wants to!”, he exclaimed with growing anger. “What did you tell her?”  
“That is something between me an your head of house, Snow. I'm afraid you wouldn't understand.”  
At this point, Baz was genuinely enjoying their conversation, and he made it very obvious.  
“Fuck you, Baz. Did you talk about me?”  
“Not everything in this school is about you, Snow.”, Baz evaded, grinning – or maybe just getting ready to show his fangs.  
“I'll let you get away with this”, Simon began, already grinding his teeth at the thought, “If you can promise me that you didn't influence her on what she's going to tell _me_.”  
“You don't have much of a choice, Snow, do you?”, Baz answered, winking at him (actually winking! Seriously!), turning around and disappearing behind a smaller wooden door Simon had never noticed before.

 

_Hogwarts, The Great Hall_

 

The next morning, a letter was delivered to a black-haired boy at the Slytherin House Table. Dev and Niall, two fellow Slytherins sitting on both sides of him, couldn't believe it when he nonchalantly pinned a silver badger to his uniform. They only exchanged glances behind the back of their never-eating friend, though, clever enough not to comment on the matter. There were people that you'd better respect.

Another owl was watching the Gryffindors for the whole length of breakfast time, but the boy it was waiting for never showed up. By the time Simon Snows roommates realized he'd overslept, the owl had returned the letter to the High Table, and the deputy headmistress took out a silver sign, reading ”P”. The same that Baz Grimm-Pitch was wearing, now.

 _It would have been so easy for you to pass this test, Simon Snow_ , she thought, sighing, tired and sorry. _It was almost impossible to fail, and yet, you did._

The Mage's Heir had had his chance. He hadn't taken it, or, as Baz Grimm-Pitch would probably say, he wasn't the right person for such a position and it showed.  
She had to admit it, though. He wasn't, and it did show.


	3. 2nd of September, 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first english fanfiction, so feel free to make me aware of any spelling or grammar mistakes. Kudos, comments and (constructive, positive or at least civil) criticism are always welcome!
> 
> All rights belong to JK Rowling and Rainbow Rowell.
> 
> I'm currently studying and stuff, and even so I am not a very reliable person, so I'm sorry for uploading very irregularly. I will always do my best though.
> 
> x Love x

2nd of September, 2013

The evening.

 

_In a corridor. An alcove with a large window bench._

 

“Go away”, Simon Snow growled.

She scowled at him. “Honestly?”, Penny said. “Do you really intend to be mad at me for your own stupid mistake?”

“Baz is a fucking prefect.”, he muttered, looking out of the window, as if it was an answer to her question. She sighed and sat down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders to comfort him somehow. He wouldn't get over it too soon. It was Baz. Not only had he gotten the position that Simon had thought was basically included in the whole “Chosen One” package, but he'd also mocked him, claiming that McGonagall had made him prefect and gotten the letter back because Simon overslept.

 

Penny had not believed a single word of this. There was no chance that the strict and firm Transfiguration professor would hesitate over such a decision, much less take back an official title she'd already sent because of a half hour of belatedness.

Also, there was no chance she could consider making Simon Snow a prefect. Honestly, even as his best friend, Penny hoped that McGonagall was too clever and responsible to do such a thing. Simon couldn't control himself, nor his magic. He'd had two wands exploding because his magic was just weird and all-consuming and he was always looking for a fight. He believed the Mage when he claimed that the magical society was still at war, or at least, he never talked back.

 

Maybe he liked being treated as a weapon, Penny wondered. Or maybe he believed the people who said that the Insidious Humdrum was more than just a catastrophic natural phenomenon, that it couldn't be helped through science, that it had a conscience and somehow human traits and that Simon Snow was decisive to win the fight against it.

 

Some said that there even was a prophecy about him. Teddy Lupin, a Hufflepuff in his fifth year, had once asked how the Mage had known it was about Simon and not someone else.

“Good question.”, she'd said, and even Baz had looked quite interested in the conversation.

Prophecies didn't choose, Teddy had said next, Voldemort had chosen Harry Potter.

So, as far as anyone knew, even if there was a prophecy, it had probably not chosen Simon Snow all by itself.

 

“I should have been a prefect.”, Simon interrupted her thoughts, making her sigh against the shoulder she was leaning on.

She didn't want to argue, so she kept her mouth shut.

“Really”, he insisted. “If the vampire can get one of those badgers, I –... I –..” He didn't really know what he wanted to say, did he? She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I should even get two.”, he heatedly finished. Penny couldn't help herself, she giggled. This was getting so childish.

“What about me then? Do I get three?”

“No, you already have one.”, he grunted.

“So, two? I hardly think it's fair if I get less badgers than you.”

“You got it earlier. Summer badges are more valuable.”

She sighed. Her best friend sounded sad and she didn't like it. Of course she had to admit that she felt flattered by the last sentence, even though Simon would never have thought about it this way if it hadn't been Baz who was concerned. Those things weren't about her.

“I should have gotten one.”, he repeated. “I'm supposed to save the world. Why would I take the responsibility for the Humdrum War but not for simple school stuff?”

“Look, Simon”, Penny began, thinking. “Why would you want the job? Really now, what reasons? Except for Baz, he doesn't count. But what else? Tell me.”

She meant it for Simon to realise that looking after first years, organizing detentions and mediation in his free time weren't for him, that he didn't really want it and that in the end, all was well.

Turned out she'd underestimated his stubbornness severely. It took him two minutes to think about it, and then he pouted, frowning. “Since when do you need a reason to want it? It's supposed to be an honour. It means the professors trust you. It means you're important.”

Penny laughed, even though there was a voice inside her that felt like shaking him until he realised how stupid that was, yelling at him maybe, hexing him for good.

“So you need more people who tell you how important you are. Sorry, I didn't realise. I thought there were enough of them already.”

He looked hesitant now, like he was about to say something, but then he didn't know what.

“And since the job is just an honour, I guess the badge is a medal, right? The meetings, the working part... nevermind?” She shook her head. “Come on Simon. Detentions. Mediation. Organizing festivities and Hogsmead weekends. You've got to know it's more than that. Now do you really want the job, apart from the title?”

Her gaze was intense and he could only meet it for a couple seconds before breaking the eye contact. He got up and took a step back, making her turn around to look at him.

“I'd never thought you'd ever be on his side.”, he said, obviously feeling betrayed. She sighed, but as soon as she opened her mouth to answer he cut her short. “No, keep it. I'm tired of this. Why is the Mage the only one to ever trust me with anything?”

With this he walked down the corridor. He'd taken his wand out. Often he did it for comfort, it relieved him of some of his negative energy through magic somehow. Today you could see it losing drops of red and gold that disappeared when they touched the floor, which stroke Penny as slightly disturbing. Was his wand crying? Merlin and Morgana, he certainly knew how to be a drama queen. She still felt sorry for him, but worried about something else as well.

“Are you going to see the headmaster? Talk to the Mage?”, she shouted after him. “Please don't.”

He turned around. “I'm going to see a person who actually believes in me and doesn't want to use me for a change!”, he shouted back. “Don't you fucking judge who that person is!”

 

While he disappeared around a corner, she sighed, thinking of her angelic-looking friend and how she did not, in fact, use Simon. At least not in the traditional sense of the phrase. Agatha needed him for her confidence, to feel loved and important and somehow popular... The very best example for an unhealthy relationship, most of the time at least. Penny had made the mistake of telling Simon what she thought about it last year, when they'd been together for several months and she'd started noticing things.

Things like Agatha being needy, or Simon apparently not really caring about her when he was happy or busy, but always going to see her in his angry, sad or bored moments.

Them never being happy and content and healthy together. Not like you would expect a couple to.

Penny and him had had a fight back then, too. Their fights never lasted very long, but they were not that agreeable, either. They left Penny with a bad conscience although she knew she'd done the right thing. Every other option didn't fit her morals.

 

“A person who believes in him _and_ doesn't want to use him?”, a mocking voice said right next to her. She hadn't seen him arriving and jumped at it, frightened. “Who would that be? His girlfriend? Poor Simon. So naïve. I don't even know if this definition applies to anyone.”

 _But you_ , she expected him to say, but he didn't. Of course not, because he would never be nice to Simon like that, acknowledging he had at least one true friend.

 

 _But me_ , he really thought, but didn't say. Of course not, because he would never make a fool out of himself like that, acknowledging his feelings and opening up about them, especially not to Simons best friend.

 

“I do believe in him.”, Penny said in a quiet voice.

“ Not like you're supposed to.”, Baz answered. _Not like I do,_ he thought _._  “You know he has power. It's not entirely the same as trusting him with big decisions.”

 _I_ know _he would always make the right decision. I know the whole concept of his existence is built on that, on a stupid foolish chosen-one way of acting that almost kills people and ends up saving everyone. And as twisted as it is, I trust our universe, fate or whatever it is, with that. I do have trust in Simon Snow._ “You don't.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. 2nd of September, At Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first english fanfiction, so feel free to make me aware of any spelling or grammar mistakes. Kudos, comments and (constructive, positive or at least civil) criticism are always welcome!
> 
> All rights belong to JK Rowling and Rainbow Rowell.
> 
> There are no excuses, I'm a shitty updater. You can't trust me. I love you though! xx

Still 2nd of September, the evening.

 

_Slytherin Dungeons, a dormitory._

 

Never in his entire life would Basilton Grimm-Pitch even consider trying to spy on Simon Snow. Especially not when he knew very well that Snow couldn't actually be doing anything interesting, as in, nothing that could get him expelled, nothing valuable for blackmail or direct harm. This, again, officially meant: nothing useful for Baz to know.

 

Baz wouldn't even dream of spying on Simon Snow when he was spending the evening in the kitchen with his hufflepuff cliché of a girlfriend. They were probably kissing and eating scones together, Snow was complaining about his life that was always oh-so-hard-and-unfair, about the absence of the Mage, about Baz, about not being able to see his girlfriend enough because they weren't in the same house... She'd find it cute and heart-warming and they would kiss again, and then he'd say that he wished he could see her at night, too - it was such a pity they didn't even live in the same part of the school – and Wellbelove would hold Snow tighter, she'd get all rosy in her face and her blue eyes would sparkle, Baz could imagine her smiling at Snow so very sweetly – a sweetness that made himself sick when he only thought of it...

 

No, Baz would never spy on that disgustingly sweet couple. He would only inspire Dev and Niall to get themselves some post-dinner snacks, and if they ran into Simon Snow there and told Baz about it (they would certainly tell him about it because they knew he was his arch enemy and needed to get every smallest piece of information) it would basically be a matter of chance, perfect timing and his minions coming in handy.

Actually, that was exactly what he had done, about an hour ago, and Baz was wondering about the „perfect timing“ part now. They still weren't back. It bothered him, a lot, because he really counted on the information they were supposed to get him.

 

But no, Baz would never dream of spying on Wellbelove and Snow. If he was dreaming, they wouldn't be together anyway. Snow would be so G – A – Y that Wellbelove didn't stand a chance, and also, he'd be pretty involved in his relationship with someone else (with Baz, obviously), so Snow wouldn't even look into her babyblue eyes if they were twice as sparkling and shiny.

 

Baz' eyes were just black.

 

Honestly, life could suck sometimes - or non-life, for that matter. Baz didn't even know in what category he should sort himself, being a vampire and all.

As his enchanted music-book turned a page by itself and started playing the next Tchaikowsky track, Baz turned around on his bed, almost hugging a pillow now, quietly cursing Dev and Niall.

What could possibly take them so long? They were only there to get some food, dammit.

 

 

_The Kitchen_

 

„What are you two doing?“, a voice suddenly asked behind the blonde slytherin.

He jumped up, alarmed, and shot a look to his best friend, who looked just as startled as him.

„Umm, nothing!“

„It doesn't look like nothing.“, Penny said, wrinkling her nose. „And it smells reaaaally bad. What is it?“ It was dark red, almost brownish, sticky, the two boys were currently filling it in a bottle with a rag that looked like it had been yellow at some point. It was a liquid. They got it from the rag into the bottle through wringing it out. _Ew_ , Penny thought, curiously coming closer.

 

„It is...“, Niall began, unsure, and shot a glance at Dev again.

„Yes, well, it's, umm-“

„Disgusting.“, Penny interrupted, rolling her eyes. „What else?“

„They've tricked a house elf into giving them blood.“, a young man inside a portrait explained, suddenly showing up right next to her. He was wearing a suit and his long, blonde hair was braided artistically. „Very cunning, you should have seen it.“

„They _what_?“

„Really.“, he insisted. „They pretended they were collecting blood donations for a house elf hospital, and they must have encountered a very stupid elf, because she actually believed them. I was here to watch it, and I've got to say: very ingenious. Congratulations, you two.“

Penny turned to face the two and looked at the rag again. Her heart almost stopped beating for a moment and she was suddenly feeling quite sick. „You did not.“

„No, no Bunce, he's lying of course, it's... Umm, Niall, what is it called again?“

„It's, umm, this muggle thing? You know what I mean, the one with tomato and sugar? Catch-up?“

„Right, Bunce, it's muggle _Catch-up_. We needed it for... Umm...“

 

Penny closed her eyes and coughed into her hand, frowning in concentration while holding back her rising nausea.

„You _hurt_ a house elf?“, she ended up whispering dangerously. „How _could_ you?“

„We did not! It really is Catch-“

„Do you think I'm stupid?“, Penny asked, her voice rising. „I know what ketchup smells like! Does this smell like tomato and sugar to you, huh? You... You're disgusting!“ She paused, looking around. When she came one step closer, they both took a step back. Niall, who was holding the rag, noticed some blood dripping to the floor.

„Where is that poor house elf now?“, Penny requested to know. „Merlin, how much blood did you take from her? Is she very hurt? Oh my... How could you?“

„You asked that already.“, Dev commented quietly, inspecting the blood on the floor when she looked at him slit-eyed.

„Also, she wasn't hurt at all.“, Niall said. „I don't know how, but she just donated... Magically. Put her disgusting blood into this old scarf without even doing anything.“

„Did you just say _scarf_?“, Penny asked, alarmed, her eyes growing bigger.

„Oh.“, the portrait-man said, looking up from his nails that he was currently painting in bright purple. „I didn't notice that before. Clever.“

„What's clever about that? They made an elf homeless! She's probably having an existential crisis right now!“

„But-“

„No! It's what happens to most of them!“

„Really-“

„They need to think it through before they're freed! What they plan to do with their lives and everything; do you have any idea how long their life expectancy-“

 

„Penny? Is that you?“

 

„-...Agatha? What are you doing here?“

 

This was the moment when Penny started to worry for real. Baz' minions and herself were one thing, but if the combination of Agatha and the kitchen was anything to go by, Simon was definitely somewhere near, too. If that was the case, there could be no doubt: it was a Gathering of Trouble, only missing its main plotter, Baz. It meant Trouble, Trouble with a capital T, the one that always involved this group and often had something to do with the Mage's great plans for her best friend.

Penny wasn't in the _mood_ for it. Merlin and Morgana, it wasn't the time yet, the year had only just begun! It was the second day of school! In her opinion, Gatherings of Trouble should only officially start in the second week, at the very least.

Baz didn't always need to come. He plotted. There was a reason for him to have minions.

In Pennys experience, Gatherings of Trouble never came by coincidence. Out of all the students who could have come to the kitchen tonight, if it had to be them, there was something behind this.

„I'm the only person who has an actual reason to be here, you know.“, Agatha said. „This place happens to be near to _my_ dorms. Simon and I wanted to spend some _quiet time_ together.“ She stressed the last words and pouted, playing her part of the cute, stupid-ish girlfriend again. Penny was never sure if she was really playing it or not. _What a pretty and loving girlfriend you are_ , Penny had to refrain from saying, _now could we get on with this matter?_

 

„Yes, well, I'm so very sorry to disturb.“, Penny answered dryly. „It's actually my job as a prefect to do some rounds, get some second-years back to their dorms and all. I didn't expect my classmates to be making potentially serious bodily injuries to an elf either, or at least not at this time of day. And as to what they are doing, I doubt they even know.“

„I can see what they're doing.“, Simon suddenly appeared from behind a shelf. He stood next to Agatha, looking furious. _Oh no_ , Penny thought. Of course she had expected him to be here, but there had still been some hope. But it seemed like they were almost complete...

„How would you of all people know that, Simon?“

„They're getting blood for Baz, because he's a vampire.“, Simon said, and went on just as she opened her mouth to answer (she didn't really know what, anyway, now that she thought of it), „but of course you won't believe me when I talk about that. You never do.“

„Can everyone please stop telling me I don't believe you? For Merlin's sake! And stop whining! Even if Baz was a vampire, it wouldn't seem like that much of a problem to me, Hogwarts is pretty inclusive -“

„Our history teacher is a ghost.“, Dev said.

„And Hogwarts has taken werewolves and half-veelas before.“, Niall commented.

„Exactly, thank you, so even if Baz was a vampire, which I wouldn't lose too much sleep over, why would he send _them_?“ Penny gestured over to where the two Slytherins stood in what she thought was an unbeatable argument in itself. Unfortunately, everybody seemed to just look at her like she was crazy, obviously not understanding her point at all.

„Right!“, Simon suddenly exclaimed. „Why are you doing this for him? Is he threatening you? Blackmailing? Paying?“

„No“, they both answered at once, defensive and distrustful.

„Good.“, Penny said. _Not good._ Simon had turned the sense of what she'd said upside down. „Now that we've answered this, let's go back to what I actually said – for this kind of thing, he'd come himself.“

„But he didn't.“, Simon pointed out.

„Which is why this situation“, Penny made a helpless gesture at the group of them, emphasizing the whole mess, „makes exactly zero sense to me.“

While it was her who was complaining about her lack of comprehension, everyone around her looked infinitely more lost than Penny. It seemed like nobody could keep up with her arguments, not even Dev and Niall. Even worse, since according to their growing grins, they seemed to think that she was defending them. Which, no, _definitely not!_ The whole reason she was still here was because those idiots had done this horrible thing!

„I'm taking you two to Professor Greengrasses office.“, she said, sternly. „Don't you leave that disgusting scarf behind.“

 


	5. 2nd of September, At Night, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first english fanfiction, so feel free to make me aware of any spelling or grammar mistakes. Kudos, comments and (constructive, positive or at least civil) criticism are always welcome!
> 
> All rights belong to JK Rowling and Rainbow Rowell.
> 
> There are no excuses, I'm a shitty updater. You can't trust me. I love you though! xx
> 
> +Note: I don't know Dev and Nialls official last names, so I invented them. If you know about the canon names, could you please tell me? Thank you xx

_Professor Greengrasses office._

 

It was somewhere on the way from the kitchen to professor Greengrasses office that Dev realized they probably hadn't thought it all through. Maybe they'd done something wrong, he thought, looking at Niall in apprehension of what was to come. Baz couldn't have planned it with an outcome like that. He always planned everything, and maybe it was all their fault now, because there might have been a mistake in the way they'd understood what Baz had said.

He had asked them to get him food – something he usually never did. _Can you go get some food or something?_ Was it even asking? It wasn't very nice, sure, but still a little different from his usual orders. Maybe he didn't feel well, Niall and himself had concluded, so they'd gone to the kitchen to get some food... well, for Baz. Since he never ate, what were they supposed to do? Everybody knew he was probably a vampire and rumoured to drink blood... right?

It didn't seem like the right choice in retrospect, Dev ruminated. They must have done something wrong, the way everybody was looking at them clearly indicated it.

At first, they hadn't wanted to come with Bunce, but then, of course, she had the Housepoint Power on her side. Which meant that she could take them away at any time if they gave her a good reason... And the scarf and bottle filled with blood Dev was holding smelled, looked and felt like a damn good reason, he had to admit. So they kind of had to come and join her. But really, he could have done without.

 

Bunce knocked on the big wooden door and stepped to the side, to let them in first. What a sadist.

 

„What is the meaning of this, Mr Charz? Mr Perret?“, a male voice greeted them. _Oh no._  Apparently, Professor Greengrass was receiving a guest tonight. Their former head of house was here with her, sitting at a low table with a bottle of wine. Dev had heard people say that professor Slughorn came here from time to time, whenever he got too bored by his retired life, but he'd never cared... Because he'd never crossed his path since his last detention in fourth year, and he hadn't missed the old potions master either. He wasn't especially good in potions, and Slughorn only liked _brilliant_ students.

 

Dev couldn't get a word out of his mouth. Why? Because there weren't any words in his mouth, nor coming to his mouth. His mouth was cut from the rest of his brain right now. He looked at Niall for help, who just shrugged.

 _Really?, h_ e tried to communicate with his gaze.  _Don't you care at all? What if Baz will kills us?_   Meanwhile, Bunce told the frowning teachers everything they definitely weren't meant to know.

„We actually had a plan, professor.“, his friend cut her off at some point, not helping much. He was looking from professor Slughorn to professor Greengrass, back and forth between them and their wine glasses. Greengrass hadn't said anything until now. She looked kind of disgusted, pursing her lips and frowning.

„That's great.“, Slughorn answered, arching one eyebrow. „What happened to it, then?“

„She interrupted us.“, Niall nodded at Bunce.

„Like any person with a healthy mind would do.“, the Ravenclaw added.

„I agree.“, Slughorn frowned. „Houseelf blood, really? Can you explain the purpose of this?“

„I think it was a mistake.“, Dev said, before Niall could get them into even more trouble.

„Oh, what on earth makes you think that?“, Bunce snapped, irritable as always when she thought that someone was unfair to some kind of minority.

„Look, we'd read that we needed the blood for... Um...“

„A potion?“, Slughorn and Greengrass asked at once. Typical, Dev thought to himself. Only teachers could think that a student would brew potions in their free time. 

„Yes, a, um, potion. But in fact, the recipe meant real elves, not house-elves, so it was kind of a bad idea.“

„You realize that now? That the elf you took blood from wasn't real enough for you?“ Bunce was getting really upset, Dev could tell. But he wasn't happy about it, since she could actually be really nice. She was clever and extremely talented.

„That's not what I said.“, he argued to defend himself. „Look, the instructions weren't very specific, but they said elves, not house-elves, and I thought right from the start that it was either another race or maybe specifically free elves...“

„Oh, that shouldn't be a problem, she must be very free now, thanks to you!“

„You freed her?“, professor Greengrass interrupted, sounding stern.

„By accident!“

„Does it change anything, anyway?“, Niall asked. „If she wants to serve Hogwarts, can't she just continue doing that without actually being a slave?“

„It matters on principle.“, Bunce said, secretly thinking to herself _this is actually a pretty good question, I need to look it up in the library_.

„You're not supposed to have access to recipes involving blood anyway.“, professor Greengrass stated.

Dev looked at his feet, frowning. How did you improvise an entire fake plan? Damn, Baz was usually the one in charge of this part.

„That's true, actually, but... It's not from the forbidden section of the library, so it can't really be that bad...“

 

He was in urgent need of a clever distraction. Whenever Baz was in trouble like that, he managed to find something to deviate the discussion, leading away from the subject to avoid. On every occasion when Dev had tried that technique in the past, he had failed miserably. But they did say something about failure being a part of the way to success, right? And he couldn't just leave the initiative to Niall.

„Can you please stop talking about it like we hurt that elve in order to get her blood?“, he blurted out. „We absolutely didn't. She gave it to us, just like that, without even doing anything. I only had the time to blink, when suddenly she was holding the same scarf filled with blood. She didn't, like, cut herself, or use a seringue, or whatever -“

„A seringue would have been too small anyway.“, Penny objected, while Slughorn commented „That is bloody disgusting!“

Dev had just mentioned the seringue because it was one of the few medical muggle instruments that he knew, and it would make him seem clever. Maybe. Or not.

„You missed the point.“, he groaned, to both of them.

„Well, you asked her to give you blood. You don't do that to a house elve who has the obligation of following your order!“

„No, no, we really asked.“, Niall jumped in. „Politely and all. Like, _would you mind helping out with this_? We did not ask her, like, _hey, give us some blood_ “

„The latter isn't asking at all.“, Penny noted.

„She was already free when she filled up the scarf, right?“, Dev added.

The Ravenclaw cringed. They were turning it all around for their own advantage, and she knew it was just wrong. Bloody manipulators.

„What did you tell her?“, Slughorn asked. „What help did you pretend to need?“

„Blood donations“, Dev explained. „For a house-elf hospital.“

„Really?“, the professor asked. He sounded impressed, which made the Slythering hope that his distraction was working out well.

„Blood _what_?“, professor Greengrass asked with a weird expression on her face.

„Right!“, Slughorn nodded, „How do you two even know about blood donations?“

„What is a blood donation?“, professor Greengrass asked again.

„His aunt is a blood donator in a muggle hospital.“, Niall said. Dev scowled at him.

„A what?“, Greengrass shrieked, completely repulsed.

„No she isn't!“, Dev said. „She's a nurse.“

„Your aunt is a muggle?“, Bunce asked. Greengrass seemed to have given up by now.

„No.“ Dev didn't want to elaborate, but then, well, there was Niall.

„She got expelled from Hogwarts, so she can't do magic anymore.“

„Wow.“, Bunce said. „I didn't know.“

„Okay, cool, now can we go on about the actual topic?“, Dev asked, annoyed.

„Can't wait to get detention?“, Bunce laughed.

„Shut up, all of you.“, Slughorn interrupted. „Mr Charz, Mr Perret... I don't understand in the least what you were trying to do there, but honestly, I'm here to talk about much more important things, and I'm convinced that professor Greengrass will have plenty of opportunities to punish your stupidity for the rest of your school time. So. Get the hell out of my office.“ Winking at Bunce, he added, „Your hair looks much better than in the past few years, by the way. Purple works better with your uniform than yellow did. And what was it in your fourth year? Orange?“

„Salmon, Sir. But thank you.“

„Doesn't it damage your hair roots?“

„No, Sir, actually, I brew myself some Hair-Strong Koto once per week, when there's no idiot around to steal my time.“

„Ah, you're still a very talented young witch then, Miss Bunce. Remind me to send you an invitation for the Adult Slughorn Club meeting after your graduation.“

„Thank you, Sir, I will.“

Dev had stood there, flabbergasted by the strange dialogue, while Niall had already left, probably on his way to the dorms now. Some students did actually brew potions in their free time, then? What? But why? When Bunce turned around to leave the office, too, Slughorn frowned at him exasperatedly. „What by Merlins beard are you still doing here? I said _get out_.“

 


	6. 5th of September, 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first english fanfiction, so feel free to make me aware of any spelling or grammar mistakes. Kudos, comments and (constructive, positive or at least civil) criticism are always welcome!
> 
> All rights belong to JK Rowling and Rainbow Rowell.
> 
> There are no excuses, I'm a shitty updater. You can't trust me. I love you though! xx

Slughorn had always had a preference for brilliant people. Who doesn't?, he thought. He was just honest enough to admit it to himself and others, which was quite useful in order to get in contact with people. It's always easier to express what you want, because if you try to get it without saying so, how can other people know how to do anything to help you or please you? Slughorn had the greatest social connections this way, and he was so _popular_. Everybody loved the Slughorn Club Meetings, and his invitations were highly coveted.

One of his best connections was the Grimm-Pitch family. It wasn't a huge social advantage since those wizards usually didn't have too many friends themselves (the only exception being Fiona Pitch, who was always in vogue in the wizarding gentry. A most peculiar witch). But the Grimm-Pitches had honour, and the glory of being one of the oldest families in the magical world. Magickal, as they still called it – a very old term, otherwise only used by the Bunces and the Mage. And Simon Snow, because he didn't even know how to spell the modern version correctly.

 

„Come in.“, the professor answered when someone knocked on the door. Professor Greengrass had left the office to look for Professor Jones, the current herbology professor and Head of Hufflepuff House. She wanted to talk to her about the freed House-Elf, probably with the intention of getting her to solve the problem for her, because Megan Jones was a very nice person who would never say no when asked for help. Anyway, now he was alone in her office, and bored. From this perspective, the knock was absolutely convenient. It meant distraction.

 

 _It's the Grimm-Pitch boy_ , he thought to himself, or hoped it, at least. He couldn't think of anyone else who would come here at this time. Of course, people always liked to come and see him, talk, drink some pumpkin juice with a shot of somewhat stronger things, but this was Professor Greengrasses office, nobody knew he was here. Tonight, it was quite obvious that it must be Basilton Grimm-Pitch, as a reaction to earlier events.

The greater his surprise when a tall blonde young man in Gryffindor robes walked in.

„Well, Mr Snow, I certainly didn't expect you.“, Slughorn admitted. „What brings you here?“

„It's Baz“, Snow exclaimed, completely out of breath, „Baz is a vampire!"  _Oh no_ , Slughorn thought, _he is having a Mage's Heir moment here, isn't he?_ „It's true!“, he went on, still too loud, almost shouting. „I've tried to find a proof for it the whole last year, now I have it, he wanted to try House-elf blood tonight, he even sent his minions to get it for him and they did and-“

„Please, Mr Snow, slow down. Minions?“

„Dev and Niall, you know-“

„Ah, yes, Mr Perret and Mr Chartz, they were here earlier. And, well, a vampire, you say?“

„Yes! Didn't you hear? Baz is a vampire, I swear! You have to believe me!“

„Do I?“, Slughorn asked, a smile slowly growing on his face. He certainly didn't appreciate the hyperactive Gryffindor too much, but for a short moment, the conversation was somewhat amusing. „How do the details of Mr Grimm-Pitches medical condition concern you?“, he asked.

Simon Snow seemed to battle himself to actually calm down. It definitely did not look easy.

„His medical condition, as you call it, kind of worries me, Sir.“, he said through his teeth, with the greatest calm he could master.

„Oh, that's sweet of you, Snow. But I can guarantee you that if he was, in fact, a vampire, he'd get all the help he needs from the headmaster.“

„The Mage?“, Snow snapped, furious again. „Help Baz? Are you kidding me? He'd never help a vampire!“

„Don't be ridiculous. We aren't racists at Hogwarts.“

„Vampires are dangerous!“, Snow exclaimed. „Baz is evil! Why isn't anyone listening to me?" He stared at Slughorn for a few seconds, and went on swearing at the unimpressed expression. „Merlin and Morgana, what is wrong with this place! Even if Baz wasn't a vampire, the Mage wouldn't help him, because at lest _he_ recognizes the evil when he sees it!“ Shouting, fuming, coming closer, Snow was pretty unnerving since he had the ability to – what did they call it? Go off? He could make his surroundings explode, more or less. And Slughorn wasn't too fond of that idea.

„Snow, would you please calm down. Two points from Gryffindor for your impudent behaviour. Has anything dangerous ever happened to a Hogwarts student, for which you are accusing Baz?“

Snow was fuming, but he couldn't think of anything to tell. It was more like he was struggling with his words. „No, but... I mean, yes, if... How would we know... Baz... He's evil!“

„Alright, let's pretend for a moment that I admit he is, indeed, evil - but dangerous?“

„Of course!“

„How so?“

„He's a vampire!“

„Has he hurt anyone, Mr Snow? If you want to accuse someone, you need some evidence, actual proofs. Then, I'd be glad to help."

„...“

...

„I thought so.", Slughorn sighed. Seemed like his night wouldn't end in actual drama; Snow was just being a bitch, once more. He'd gotten used to it in the past few years. "Please, Mr. Snow, I invite you to come back whenever you actually have something important to tell me.“

Simon Snow didn't know what to answer. He stood there indignantly for almost a minute before he turned around and stormed out.

Maybe he'd think about the logical part of what Slughorn had just tried to tell him, but the Ex-Head of Slythering House doubted it somehow. Snow wasn't exactly one of the most brilliant people here at Hogwarts.

 

 

_The Slytherin Dorms_

 

„Niall“, a hesitant voice whispered in the dark of a room.

Another voice groaned.

„Come on“, the first voice said in a very serious tone, „You can sleep soon, okay? We need to talk about Baz.“

He groaned again, and then: „Whadyawant“

„Are we telling him what happened tonight?“

„Nah“

„What if Bunce and Snow talk about it and he's there? Or... Something. He finds out about such things.“

„So wha“

„What do we tell him?“

„Hmph“

„Please!“

A quiet snore answered. Dev, frustrated, embarrassingly helpless in his need of advice, literally cursed at his friend, whispering all the freezing-spells and nightmare-hexes he would use on him if his wand wasn't in the drawer of his bedside table. He was too tired to go and take it. By the time he rolled over, he was already fast asleep.

 

 

_5 th of September, 2013._

 

It was thursday morning. A vast majority of Hogwarts students was sitting at the breakfast tables quietly, almost still sleeping. The first few weeks of the school year always went like this: students went to bed later every night, had way too many things to talk about with their friends. Especially those who hadn't seen each other the whole summer would never shut up, neither at night nor at mealtime or in class. This state lasted for monday and tuesday, of course, decreasing by wednesday morning for some, and by thursday at the latest, for the most persistent students. By friday, they would ask themselves why they had been so keen on starting the new school year, how they had actually _felt like_ attending classes, and would be extremely glad for the weekend.

They were some exceptions to the rule. The first years, for one, were mostly a bit awkward at first. Delighted and freaked out by everything, they didn't really know where their place was, yet. It took them a little time to get to know each other, make friends, get used to the new environment in a cute and clumsy way, like kittens - even those who were trying to be all badass and mean (usually Slytherins), those who tried to look like they already knew everything because they had heard or read about it (mostly Ravenclaws) and those who were already causing trouble (the Gryffindors, ). And more than anyone else, those who were already trying to make friends and help each other to settle in, the Hufflepuffs.

Then, there was Simon Snow, for instance, who would never cease to be happy and excited about Hogwarts, and also never stopped talking, smiling or eating scones. He loved classes, too, but in a platonic way. Everybody knew he enjoyed them on principle, because he loved magic, but bad at them as he was, he didn't like the work per se. It got him angry and frustrated when he tried too hard, so he didn't, and didn't change the result in the least. His grades and performances were just as bad. He still managed to make a lot of noise on the Gryffindor table most of the time, at every hour of the day. Right now, he was laughing so hard with his housemates, he was almost falling off a chair. Merlin knew why. And nobody was even looking at him funny, except the first years.

And there was him, Baz, who would rather suck the blood out of his own tongue than to stay up to _chat_ with anyone. He'd also rather spend his nights sucking at other things, for whole different purposes, but that was exactly one of the reasons why he'd never discuss his life with his friends. Nope. Not happening. If he had a say, once he would have conquered the world and been destituted again (because that was the logical following), it should be written in every history book that the great Basilton Grimm-Pitch wasn't even able to like anyone. It would give the psychoanalysts something to talk about - it must be his lack of a mother figure since early childhood, right? Thus his desire went to no one in particular, he never got to the jealous stage, and therefore never learned to respect law and society through his father's name. Maybe that was it. That's why he would conquer the world, bite people and never have a relationship. All because of that damn Oedipus.

 _Or_ it was because he'd chosen the most stupid person to love and needed to deflect his passion into another object, since he knew jealousy _very well_.

Wasn't that another psychoanalytic theory? Oh well.

He looked at the Snow with a slight smirk around his lips, met his eyes through the heads of all the students between them (because of course he'd chosen to sit where he could still see Snow), and then turned his head towards his minions, like he was in the middle of a conversation. It would make Snow restless and furious, which was as good as Baz could get.

It could be perceived as romantic in a certain way. After all, Snow would spend quite some time thinking about Baz' smile and the reasons behind it. That must be worth _something_.

There was someone else, though, who was thinking about Baz way too much, judging by the way he nervously glanced at him every few minutes, when he thought it would stay unnoticed. Dev had been doing this for three days now. _What happened on monday night?_ , Baz wondered, estimating when he'd get the next nervous look and raising his head precisely in that moment, quirking an eyebrow to make sure Dev knew he'd noticed. What was it? Dev was incapable of keeping secrets and he usually didn't have a reason to, anyway. As Baz knew him, his friend would probably be relieved once he'd made up his mind to talk about it, and this nervous state wouldn't last too long. He should enjoy the tension why it lasted, not make it too easy for his minion to unburden himself here. Because in the end, what reasons did Baz have to ignore such an opportunity? He _liked_ games like this, playing with someone elses emotions. No, really, they were fun, and it definitely never hurt his reputation.

 


	7. 5th of September, 2013. The Afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's me again - and yes, I'm still alive!  
> (To those who know the Portal Song, high five! And to everyone else, go play the game and listen to this plottwist sing! And don't trust the cake.)
> 
> I'll try to update more often now. It's Camp NaNoWriMo, and I'm doing several projects at once (since one would be too easy), but I also have exams coming up at university next week. I'll just do what I can, but trust me : I'm staying active this time.   
> Hope you're having a great day! Love y'all ♥  
> Lara

Thursday afternoon.

 

_ An almost empty potions classroom. _

 

 

"What is it again, Snow?", Baz asked in a lazy voice, while chopping the leaves of a burning tree for the potion he was working on. He was tired after classes (he hadn’t been drinking anything for several days, it was always hard to go outside without anybody around in the first few weeks of school) and company was getting on his nerves. Not that Simon Snow could ever really get on his nerves, but, you know, having your hormones wire up in someone’s presence could be sort of annoying, too.

"Are you plotting against the school system?", Snow asked, standing right in front of him but shouting for some reason. He was always talking too loud. 

Baz scoffed, hiding his confusion under a mask of impenetrable arrogance.

"Why, yes, actually, but you weren't supposed to know. Not yet, anyway. Please tell me, how did you find out?"

It must have taken Snow great self control not to stomp his feet or anything. And honestly, he looked kind of tired, too.

"I'm not joking, Baz. I know you're a vampire-"

"Well, what if I am?"

"Exactly! Nobody cares! But they should! You're dangerous-"

"Which has nothing to do with vampires. I’d be dangerous whether I'm a vampire or not. So, anything else?"

" _ Shut up _ . The professors should be worried! At least for the sake of our house elves-"

Baz shot him a quick look. Since when did Snow care about house elves? He must be tired, his trains of thought seemed to be even stranger than usual. This time, Baz couldn't really follow them. But since Snow wasn’t supposed to know that, Baz' black eyes just watched him, calmly, while the Gryffindor was rambling on and on. He'd get the information he wanted one way or another, soon enough.

"House elves.", Baz repeated, when the Gryffindor seemed to pause. "Since when do you even care about them? I never took you for a big friend of magical creatures. Or are you?" He’d never seemed fond of Baz’ particular biology. Baz smiled, just with one corner of his mouth, not really expecting Snow to get the allusion. 

"I don't want them to feed you!", Snow answered, sounding exasperated. Baz raised an eyebrow, too busy cutting the next ingredient to look up from his work.

"Oh, and here was I thinking that it was their job to feed us students."

"Not vampires!"

When Baz was done with the next set of plants, he leaned on the desk with both of his hands and looked Snow, straight in the eyes. 

_ Damn, were they pretty _ . 

_ Not the point _ . 

A strand of black hair was falling down in front of his eyes, but he didn't bother taking it out of his sight right now. There was something else that needed his attention.

"Snow.", he said. "I know you don't like me-"

"Hate.", Snow interrupted, his eyes firing sparks.

“You don’t hate me?”, Baz grinned. 

Simon Snow growled. Baz wanted to purr, but he refrained from it. "There's still something I want to know.", he went on. "Are you really too stupid to put another concept onto why you don’t like me?”

“ _ Hate _ .”, Simon Snow insisted, and this time Baz had to ignore a stinging sensation in his chest. Couldn’t Snow just leave it for two minutes? Was  _ dislike  _ such an understatement? Baz wished he could dislike Snow. Or maybe he did, in many ways - but then he’d never be able to hate him.

“What I mean to ask it: does it have to be about vampires? You're not a clove of garlic, for as much as I know, and not a werewolf either. So, what’s the matter with you and vampires?" He paused, thinking. "Or was that the only weakness you could ever find in me?" 

A smirk appeared on his lips. This last theory didn't sound half bad, now that he was considering it.

"I hate you.", Simon Snow hissed again, and this time it was purely amusing. Maybe because it showed a lack of creative answers more than any real feelings on his part.

"Oh, Snow.", Baz sneered. "I love it when you talk to me with such passion."

Simon, breathing through his mouth again, seemed to have a hard time not exploding. 

Baz was stirring his potion now.

"If you have to go off, please leave the room.", he said, patiently. "We don't want all the ingredients to catch fire. Most of them are pretty expensive. Rare, valuable, and all that. You couldn’t repay them even if you robbed your whole orphanage."

Maybe he was pushing it. But it was fun.

 

He heard Snow breathing - it was funny when the Chosen One tried anger management techniques with breathing patterns that Bunce probably taught him, it was kind of like a hyppogriff doing yoga. He didn't get any answer for a while though, and Snow didn’t explode, which clearly indicated that he was making progress. And since Baz' potion required a lot of attention in that moment, it was perfect on his side. By the way, silent Snow was closer to a happy relationship than an angry storm, and easier to fantasize about. (Baz would never, how dare you even think that! You could be giving him ideas. Don’t.)

"Why did you have to attack a house elve, though?", Simon finally broke the silence.

Baz thought before answering. "You'll have to elaborate a bit further than that, I think." To be completely honest, he didn't have the tiniest idea what his arch enemy was talking about here.

"Sending your minions after house elf blood. How desperate were you? And even then, why wouldn't you go after them yourself? It just makes no sense."

"Indeed.", Baz commented, stirring his potion.

"Come on! I'm not threatening you right now! I need some answers!"

"If you tell me something first?"

Simon eyed him suspiciously. "Like what?"

_ What are you still doing dating this stupid - _

"What happened on monday night?", Baz asked.

Simon raised an eyebrow. "With Agatha?", he asked. Baz tensed. That was going to close to what he’d actually been thinking about, but whatever had happened between Snow and Wellbelove on monday night,  _ no _ , he definitely did  _ not  _ want to hear about it  _ in any way whatsoever. _

"Yes, with your girlfriend,  _ obviously _ . What else. Please send me pictures too, will you?  _ No,  _ Snow, I couldn't care less about your childish relationship with that shinly white puppet. I wanted to know about what else happened on monday night." After a little struggle with himself, he risked a little prompt. "With Dev and Niall, for instance."

Simon narrowed his eyes at him, leaning forward to watch him closer. It was kind of intense, and Baz couldn’t decide whether he liked the attention or not.

_ Be careful _ , he wanted to tell him.  _ What if you inhale some smoke from that potion? _

But his heart was feeling weird, with long blond eyelashes making the tiniest winds right next to his hands, and he shouldn’t warn Snow about anything, ever. Maybe he could just take away house points if Snow didn't take care of his health. It could just count as him being evil, right?

"Well. I thought you knew all about that.", a voice interrupted his thoughts.  _ Reading thoughts again, Snow? _

Baz rolled his eyes at him. "I know my side of the story, obviously. I need reliable sources about what my minions are doing when I'm not there."

Not that Simon Snow was anything close to a reliable source, but he certainly was one, and right now Baz didn’t have any information at all. Nobody had to know that.

"So you weren't there?", Snow asked. "What were you doing?"

"Plotting for the apocalypse, of course.”, Baz answered. “What do you think? Did it look like I was there?"

Simon shrugged. "You always appear out of nowhere.", he said. "Isn’t that a vampire thing? Where were you, then?"

"My question first.", Baz reminded him.

"Uhh. Right. Your minions. Well, they took blood from house elves. It was for you, I suppose, since no one else here is interested in that substance - I don't believe a word about what they told Penny, about making potions or anything, and they certainly weren't collecting blood donations.”

What the actual heck?

“Don’t tell me what I already know.”, Baz said in a lazy voice, sounding as bored as possible. “How many teachers got involved?"

Simon frowned. "Uh, Greengrass and Slughorn - I think Greengrass had to get help from Jones, for the house elf. So, three?"

"Are you sure that's all?", Baz asked, putting his last ingredients into his potion. It was starting to smell like heaven, and he wondered if Snow liked the smell, too. It smelled like every shadow of black and gold, mixed with everything that he’d ever want to stay awake for. It was sort of like Magickal coffee, and extremely useful for vampires, too.

"I guess. A portrait saw the whole scene, though, and those people seem to gossip a lot. So the story might spread."

Baz frowned. One thing was certain: Dev would have some good explaining to do.

"Well, I'll see about that. Now, what was your question again?"

Simon Snow seemed to think for a while, then his gaze darkened. "You!", he exclaimed, accusingly. "You distracted me on purpose!" 

Baz laughed. "I have nothing to do with the fact that you can't remember your own questions.", he answered smugly. Although he  _ would  _ have bet his favourite quill on it. "You'll need to thank yourself for that part."

"You knew I wouldn't remember..."

"You are quite predictable.", Baz agreed, packing his things together. He'd leave the potion here and let it cool down, and would come back later in order to fill it into some other recipient.

"I-" Simon Snow was having a hard time following his own thoughts. 

_ Don't bother getting so worked up _ , Baz thought.  _ My answers are going to disappoint you anyway _ . 

"I think I wanted to know whether you’re planning to throw over the school system.", Snow reflected, uncertain.

Baz scoffed. "After all the work the Pitches put into Hogwarts' system of Magick? Sure. I have nothing better to do with my time than to ruin my family’s work. Not everyone works like you, Snow."

“I’m not ruining my family’s work.”

“No, just the Magickal World’s, and since you’re an orphan-”

“How am I ruining anything?”

Baz sneered. “Do I need to remind you what you’re most known for? Or would it make you feel like  _ going off _ ?”

Simon Snow, who had leaned back again and crossed his arms, frowned at him angrily.

"Well, what do you have to do with your time? Going out? Having fun? Maybe you can afford minions, but I’d be surprised if you could have a friend. Or  _ more _ .”

He enjoyed saying this, Baz could tell, and more than just making him furious, he could feel the fire growing inside him. You did not provoke a Grimm-Pitch.

"I plot.", Baz said. “I thought you knew.” 

And what was that about relationships? If Snow wanted to see him with someone...  _ Just you wait, Snow. When you see what’s coming, it will wipe that smug smile of yours right off your face.  _

Snow, feeling superior? Definitely not. There was no way he could leave him like this: it called for him to act. And soon. 

After he’d cleaned up the place, Baz muttered a spell to extinguish the fires he’d placed inside the lamps. “Hey!”, Snow protested. “Normal humans can’t see in the dark!”

“You’re a wizard, Snow.”, Baz answered, while slipping out of the room. “And you’re certainly not normal.”


	8. Thursday, early evening.

Thursday, early evening.

 

_Somewhere outside, inside the castle. A courtyard._

 

“Agatha”, Penny sighed. “Just tell me what it is. I’ll leave you to your… mood, then, if you still want. But if you’re angry at me I need to know why.”

Agatha turned away. There weren’t many people sitting inside this courtyard at this time of day, but some other Hufflepuffs were nearby. Just like the kitchen, this place was near to their dorms and, as such, used almost exclusively by them.

“Can anyone tell me what’s up?”, Penny turned towards them, hope and resignation both mixed in her voice. The Hufflepuffs looked at each other, as if checking whether they agreed on something, and a girl in the group answered hesitantly: “You’re in some sort of trouble again, aren’t you? You know Agatha hates trouble.”

Penny looked at Agatha’s face to check if that was correct. She almost groaned, annoyed. It was.

“Come on, Agatha! It’s Hogwarts, of course there’s some trouble. But nothing even happened yet! The only ones who can worry are Dev and Niall, really.”

“And Simon, and us.”, Agatha added through pursed lips, her eyes focusing on the sewing project she was currently working on. “It was a Gathering of Trouble on monday night, wasn’t it? It will draw us all in soon enough. And I’m tired of it.”

“I don’t see why you’re even hanging out with us if you don’t like it!”, Penny exclaimed. “Seriously! No one forced you to!”

“Well, Simon is my boyfriend.”, Agatha answered, lifting her eyes up at the Ravenclaw to shoot her a poisonous look.

“Oh, _that_ is how much I mean to you.”, Penny said in a dry voice. “Good to know.”

“She didn’t want to talk!”, the other Hufflepuff girl interfered, coming closer, when Agatha seemed to have trouble forming an answer. She was only second year or something, but she looked angry. “Can’t you just leave her alone?”

“Please let her talk for herself.”, Penny said.

“No, she’s right.”, Agatha said, focusing on her work again instead of looking at Penny. “Thank you, Victoire.”

“Alright, then”, Penny noted. “Part-time friends it is. I hope you’re better company, Victoire.” She turned around and walked away in big, angry steps, that would take her to one of her favourite places very soon: the library. Just when she arrived at the big pillars surrounding the yard, she looked back at her friend once more. “If you hate trouble that much, you should ask yourself why you chose the Chosen One”, she said, before leaving the place.

 

Victoire Weasley, who had just turned twelve, was watching the Ravenclaw angrily. “What a jerk.”, she said, when Penelope had left. “Why are you friends with her?”

Agatha shrugged. “She can be nice.”

“Everyone _can_ .”, Victoire observed. “But friends should _try to_. I don’t think she was.”

“She really likes trouble.”, Agatha said. “It makes her all defensive.”

“What about ‘choosing’ Simon? You’re in love, right? Since when is that a choice?”

Hearing this twelve year old witch making statements about love was so adorable that Agatha’s whole face brightened up. “What do you know about love?”, she teased, smiling.

Victoire’s cheeks blushed a little, but there was enough Veela in her to make it just look cute.

“I read! And I watch _movies_.”

“You do? That’s so nice! Are you related to muggles? What movies do you like?”

By this point, Agatha had put her sewing down and was focusing entirely on their conversation. She loved muggles, and movies, and people at Hogwarts who were in chatty mood!

“Only to Muggleborns.” Victoire admitted. “Though I wish I knew muggles, too. My grandfather loves them.”

“You could try a muggle summer camp.”, Agatha said. “That’s what I like to do.”

“Like a quidditch camp, with no quidditch?”

“And way more fun!”

“But… I wouldn’t fit in. I don’t know how to do anything.”

“Oh no, it’s actually quite easy once you get the hang of it. But a muggleborn friend of mine also has a sister who’s your age. I could ask her if she wants to be Owl-pals?”

“I’d love that! Please please do!”

 

“Did I hear something about ‘way more fun than quidditch’?”, a boy’s voice stepped in. He came from the group that Victoire was talking to earlier, and must be older than the other kids back there. Agatha always had a hard time estimating boy’s ages. For most of them, the physical appearance jumped from age 10 to 15 to 20. He looked cute though, Agatha thought. With something strange about his hair. It was sandy, at a fluffy length, but the roots seemed to be blue… Lost in her thoughts, the conversation between the two was going on without her.

“I knew you’d argue about that.”, Victoire laughed.

“Obviously! It can’t be right! How are you even a Weasley?”

 

“I’m going back inside.”, Agatha discreetly interrupted. “See you later, Victoire. And don’t stay out after curfew.”

“I won’t.”, Victoire answered, with a much more melodious voice than before. She almost sounded like a Veela. _Attractive_. “Good night!”

“ ‘ Night”, the boy added, his attention still on the Weasley, and Agatha smiled to herself.

_Well, who’s making a choice right now?_


End file.
